Jai Ho
by Allanna Stone
Summary: What happens when Erik Destler, the owner of the most sought out brothel in Persia, meets Clara? Shitty summery, I know...
1. Chapter 1

**Jai Ho**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera.**

"May I help you with something, my dear?"

The girl spun around with a loud yelp. To her shock, standing behind her, was a tall man wearing a black cloak, a white shirt, black pants, tall leather boots and a green vest. But what made the girl terrified of him was his mask- white porlelin which overed the right side of his face.

The girl looked up at him with fear in her eyes. The only sound that escaped her mouth was a quiet squeak.

The man raised an eyebrow, waiting for the young girl to speak.

"I need a place to stay for the night," she managed to get out.

The man smiled kindly at her before leading her from the foyer of _The Peacock Feather_ to the girl's dormitories.

"You are looking for work, am I right?" The masked man asked her gently. The girl nodded her head before thinking. "Forgive me for asking, but how old are you?"

"I'm fourteen," she mumbled as the man led her up a flight of stairs.

"I normally only hire girls who are fiteen and older," the man started to say, his hand clamped lightly on her shoulder. "However, I do believe that I can make an acceptance for you, my dear."

The girl looked up at him and smiled shyly. He suddenly hooked a left down a hallway and up another flight of stairs. He unlocked a door and motioned for her to step inside.

The girl entered what looked like a small office. There was a desk and several chairs scattered around the room, floor pillows for thoses who wished to sit on the floor, and a bookcase that was stuffed with books on different subjects. The man sat at his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment paper and a quill.

"What's your name?" he asked her kindly, waving towards the chairs.

The girl sat down on a pillow before answering.

"Clara," she whispered. "I don't know what my last name is."

"So you're an orphan?" he asked her compassionatly, pausing for writing.

Clara nodded, blushing as she looked at the handsome man in front of her.

"You're fourteen; your birthday is?" he asked her, returning to his writing.

"August fourteenth," she mumbled.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked her.

She nodded, looking away from him and towards the bookcase.

"Go on, Clara. You may choose a book to read if you want," the masked man told her with a small smile.

Clara stood up and walked over to the bookcase. She examined the spines of the books for a moment before pulled a volume off the shelf. Clara smiled as she held _Dracula_ by Bram Stoker. She opened the book and inhaled the scent of parchment and ink.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, hugging the book close to her chest.

"You're welocme," the masked man smiled at her gently. "May I see your body?"

Clara nodded before shedding her cloak to reveal a shabby dress in a faded yellow color. She began to undo the buttons, strugging at the last few buttons. The man sighed before rising to help her. Once the last of the buttons were undone, she slowly peeled her dress off of her rail thin body. What the man saw horrified him.

Thin scars criss crossed her body, starting on her legs and whipping up her back and ending on her stomach. a few of the scars looked to be infected, with yellow and green puss oozing from the angry lash marks and blood mixing from the open sores. The second the dress was off, the sores opened, bleeding trails of pus down her body.

The masked man swore savagely before leaving the room for a moment. When he returned, he had a bottle with purple liquid and some bandages in hand. He knelt down next to her, reaching out with a small cloth soaked with the vial smelling medicine.

"Hold still," murmured the man softly, dabbing the cloth onto her open sores. Clara winced in pain as the kind man continued to take care of her wounds. "Who did this to you?" he growled softly.

"The owner of the orphanage that I used to live in," she sniffled. "I ran away."

"I don't blame you," muttered the man, squeezing the pus from the wounds. Clara cried out in pain as he broke several of the scabs to release the infected fluids from her back. He turned her around so that was she was facing him. He stopped when he saw the size of her breasts.

They were rather large for a girl of fourteen years, and well developed as well. Her nipples were perky in the chilly night air, pointing at him like mountain peaks. Her stomach was flat as a plane and the rest of her body was well formed with muscles.

The man rocked back on his heels before attending the rest of her infected wounds. Once he had finished dabbing the medicine into the open sore, he wrapped bandages around her body, cacooning her like an Egyptian mummy. Just as he finsihed, he noticed her ratty dress and looked at her.

"I'll be back in amoment with another dress for you to wear until I can find someone to go into town with you for new clothes, alright?" the man told her with another smile. Clara just nodded before curling herself up onto the floor with her book.

The man left the room for only five minutes, but when he returned, he found that Clara had fallen asleep, wrapped up in her cloak as a blanket.

The man smiled faintly at the sight of Clara sound asleep with the book clutched still in her hands. He bent down and scooped up the frail girl into his muscular arms before turning and leaving his office.

When he entere his bedroom in the basement of _The Peacock Feather_, he noticed that Clara had grabbed onto the lapels of his cloak and was holding on for dear life. He quickly settled her into his bed before going out to lock up for the night.

He sighed heavily as he twirled his keys around on his finger.

Tonight was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Jai Ho**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera.**

The next thing that Clara knew was that she was on a bed of the softest silks and velvets. She drowsily ran her hand up and down the silk blankets before sitting up. She found herself in a room that was decorated with reds and blacks. Little dots of color decorated the room here and there, but the girl's attention was drawn to the piano that was resting in a corner of the room. She stood up, ignoring the sharp pains that raced through her body, and stumbled over towards the bench. She sat down heavily, panting from the pain. Clara smiled as she ran her fingers across the stage of ebony and ivory keys. She softly pressed down on a few keys, making a sour note.

Clara jumped up in shock as the masked man entered the room.

"Clara, it's good to see that you're awake," he smiled kindly at her. "Come here, I need to change your dressings."

Clara crept over to him and allowed for him to remove the bandages that only twelve hours ago were placed over her infected scars.

"Do you play?" Clara blurted out, a deep blush tainting her porcelain skin.

"Yes," the man asnwered shortly, ripping open another scab. Clara whimpered in pain as the blood began to flow once more, mingling with the yellow-green pus. "I'm sorry, but I need to drain the pus, otherwise the infection will spread," he apologized to Clara.

"It's alright," she said through gritted teeth. "What's your name?" she suddenly asked on a whim.

"Erik. Erik Destler," he answered after only a moment of hesitation.

"Erik," breathed Clara softly, turning to face him. For the first time, a small smile graced her face, making her look pretty and loving. Her hand carefully traced the outline of his mask. "The name suits you."

Erik stood from his crouch, walking over to a chair, where Clara saw a dress in a pretty shade of lilac was resting. He picked it up and gave it to her with a smile.

"You can wear this until Emma can take you into town," he announced, helping her with the buttons.

"Thank you, Mounsire Destler," murmured Clara softly, smiling as the dress fitted her perfectly.

~oOo~

Erik watched as Emma and Clara both rode from _The Peacock Feather_, giggling and chattering. He sighed as he turned from the curtains back to his room. He went toward his office to try and get some paperwork done.

As he sat down in his comfy chair, he growled as his trousers tightened uncomfortably for the dozenth time that morning. He slapped his quill down angirly; he wouldn't be able to do anything else until he released himself.

Why were men cursed with such an insterment?

He placed his ungloved hand over his manhood, groaning loudly as his nimble fingers unbuttoned his trousers. As he took his engorged flesh into his hands, he asentmindedly traced the veins that decorated the penis. He folded his hand around it and began to massage it roughly, letting his head fall back and allowing for memories of the night before to spring into mind.

His strokes became faster as he quickly neared his climax. Breathing heavily, he all but tore his trousers apart as he dug out his handkerchief and placed it strategically over the tip of his penis before his released himself with a loud moan.

As he disposed of the evidence and readied himself to start on the large stack of paperwork, he found himself thinking about Clara and her virgin body. He groaned as he thought about pounding into her, stealing her viginity like she had stolen his mind...

~oOo~

Emma smiled as Clara looked at a bolt of creamy blue cotton. The two girls had grown close over the past few hours, and had silently began to view the other as a sister. Emma had also told Clara that she could make her own clothes if she didn't want to shop for items to wear.

"I loke this color," announced Clara, taking the bolt of fabric up to the cashiere. After paying for the fabric, she puttered around the small shops some more before Emma told the girl that they had to return back to the brothel for lunch.

As the two girls rode through the town, gigging and chattering, Clara noticed that there was a sweets shop. She asked for Emma to wait for her as she entered.

"Hello there, my dear. Can I help you with something?" asked a kindly grandmotherly like woman from behind the counter.

Clara smiled and looked around, finally buying a small bag of gumdrops and chocolate drops.

As she hurried from the sweet shop, she spied Emma, who was holding both of their horses.

"I'm sorry, but I just couldn't resist!" apologized Clara, hopping onto her gentle mare with a smile towards her friend.

"No problem. Madame Smith knows all of the girls from the brothel and she is the sweetest soul that I have ever met," grinned Emma, kicking her horse into a quick canter, in her rush to return to _The Peacock Feather_.

By the time the girls returned to the brothel, the scents of freshly cooked food was meeting there noses as they handed their horses off to the stableboys.

"Clara!" shouted Violet, another one of the girls, running up to the two girls. "Master Destler wishes to see you in his private chambers," she whispered to Clara with a smile.

"Thank you," smiled Clara before asking Emma to deliver her things to her new room. The girl agreed to do so before Clara followed Violet up to her new boss's office.


	3. Chapter 3

**Jai Ho**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera.**

Clara walked up the stairs to her new boss's bedroom. When she arrived, she knocked timidly on the door.

Erik opened the door and ushered her inside without uttering a word. It wasn't until Clara was in the center of the room did Erik speak.

"I do believe that it is time for me to give you lessons in how to pleasure a man," he began softly, sitting on his bed. "Come here."

Clara crept forward, her feet silently padding on the hardwood floors. When she reached him, she knelt down so that was her chin was align with his crotch.

"Do you know what a blowjob is?" Erik asked her. Clara shook her head, looking up at him with questioning eyes. He took her palm, which was dwarfed by his larger hand, and placed it onto his crotch. Clara flexed her fingers, grasping the lump that was clearly visable from the trousers. Erik goraned softly, causing for Clara to withdraw her hand in fright. "No, no, it's alright," murmured Erik calmly, taking her hand once more and replacing it over his erection. He sighed with pleasure as Clara continued to massage his cock, growing more bolder with each passing second.

Then Erik began to unbotton his trousers, pushing the down far enough to allow his penis to stand tall at attention. Clara's eyes went wide with surprise and she began to touch it with wonder on her face.

"What is this for?" she asked, tracing a vein lightly with her finger.

"It is used for ultimate pleasure," answered Erik with a smile. "I will show you, if you would permit it."

"Yes please," answered Clara shyly, as her fingers ticked the fourteen inch cock. Erik's moans grew louder until he couldn't take any more. He gently guided her mouth to the cock and tapped the head of his cock on her lips. She shyly opened her mouth and took the length into her mouth. She began to suckle and nip at the giant penis that was in her mouth. Erik groaned and felt his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he continued to hold Clara's head loosly to his pelvis.

Clara acted on pure instint, bobbing her head up and down as she sucked on Erik's cock. Within only a few minutes, Erik couldn't hold on much longer. He released himself into Clara's mouth with a loud moan of pleasure, surprising the girl with the taste of his cum.

"OH!" Her cry came out muffled because of the object in her mouth, which twiched and gave her another squirt for her pains. She swallowed as much of the cum as she could before looking up at Erik with heavily hooded eyes.

"And that is called a blow job," Erik told her gently, helping her to rise from her spot on the floor and settling her onto his bed. He gently kissed her, his lips lingering hungerly on her lower lip. She boldly leaned into the kiss, nibbling at his lips, causing for Erik to moan loudly.

"Clara-" Erik was cut off by her kissing his neck. It felt so good!

Clara hummed a response, still kissing the tender skin on his neck and shoulder.

"Your lesson is over for tonight," he gasped, finally secceeding in pushing her away from him.

Clara looked sad at this announcement. Erik couldn't help but reach out to tuck a strand of her blond curls back behind her ear. He smiled gently at her, pulling her up onto the bed with him, tucking her underneath the covers. He liad down next to her, his shirt off and wearing his trousers. He turned so that he was facing her and kissed her sweetly.

"Sweet dreams, Clara," he murmured softly, playing with her blonde curls.


	4. Chapter 4

**Jai Ho**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera.**

The next morning, when Clara woke up, she found herself to be alone. She crawled out of the bed, her mouth feeling like it was on fire, and grabbed her dress from the floor, where it was laying. After slipping into it, she padded around the room, looking for her other shoe. She finally found it under the bed.

"Is there a reason why you're under my bed?"

Clara yelped and knocked her head on the underside of the bed, causing for her to cry out in pain as she scrambled out from underneath the bed. Suddenly, Erik was right besides her, massaging her now sensitive head and apologizing to her over and over again as he kissed her sore head.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly, his hand rubbing small circles onto the back of her skull. "I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized, kissing her forehead repeatedly. Eventually, Clara's head stopped stinging and she rested her head against his chest, deeply inhaling his manly scent of parchment, pine and wood shavings.

"You just surprised me; that's all," muttered Clara, standing once more and sliding on her too tight shoes. Erik must've seen the look of pain on her face, for he told her that she could go without shoes until she got her new ones in.

At that moment, Emma and Violet knocked on their boss's door and asked if Clara was presentable for breakfast.

"Oh course she is," smiled Erik, gently pushing Clara forwards with his hand to go and join the two girls. Clara turned and smiled at her boss before the door shut shut behind her with a _**CLICK**_.

~xXx~

Clara smiled as Violet handed her a platter with a mountain of breakfast rolls heaped on top. She took four before passing the plate down to Emma, who took one.

Clara looked around the table and saw girls of every shapes and ages were quietly eating breakfast. Clara then quickly focused her attention back onto her plate, quickly gobbling up as much food as her stomach could hold before realizing that she had finished her meal before anyone else.

"Here, have some more," offered Violet, passing a platter heaped high with eggs. Clara smiled a thank you at the kind girl before dumping a quarter of the plate's contents onto her plate and reaching to grab more toast.

"Slow down, Clara! You'll choke and die!" scolded Emma in a motherly fashion.

"I'm sorry, but I can't remember the last time I eaten!" mumbled Clara through s stuffed mouth.

The other girls at the table stopped eating and turned to stare at Clara with looks of shock.

"You mean you were starved?" asked a young girl no older than fourteen.

Clara nodded grimly as she shoveled in another mouthful of food. She looked up to see pity on most of the girls' faces. The only girl who was scowling at her was a slender redhead with black eyes that glinted hatred at her. Clara stared her down until she blinked and looked away, the scowl still imprinted on her face.

"Oh, you poor thing!" crooned Emma, wrapping her arms around Clara in a hug. Clara leaned into her friend's touch, happy that she had found a family that would care for her, even though they weren't of the same blood.

A few minutes later, Clara was stuffed up to her nose as she refused another plate of food from Emma, who seemed determined to fatten her up. Emma frowned, but didn't push her into eating another morsel as Clara stood from the table, a smile on her pale face. Emma and Violet then hustled her off for a nice, long bubble bath with soap to help her clean off the mud stains that she failed to clean off the day before.

~xXx~

"Oh, this dress is stunning on you, Clara!" squealed Violet as Clara came out from behind the dressing screen wearing a lovely pale blue dress with embroidery on the yolk and hem. Clara giggled as she spun around, making the skirt flare up to show her painfully skinny legs.

"I do believe that you'll survive on this many dresses for now, Clara," announced Emma with a smile as she walked forwards with stocking hanging on one arm and cradling half a dozen slippers and boots in her other arm. "Here- try them on."

Clara did as the motherly woman told her to, happy that she was playing dress up for the first time in her life. She slipped on the stockings and slippers, smiling as she realized that these were the shoes that her boss had ordered especially for her. She stood, grinning when she didn't feel any pinching, like with the worn out shoes that were passed on to her from the orphanage. She had gotten rid of them when the pain in her feet became too much to bear. She sighed sadly, thinking of the dead girl whose feet those shoes had been yanked off of. The owner of the orphanage had then tossed them at her and told her that she'll wear them or go barefoot. Clara shuddered at the horrible memory that entered her mind as she stood up and walked around, smiling as she wore her new outfit.

"Master Destler doesn't like corsets, so we don't wear them!" explained Violet, beaming at her friend's newfound beauty and confidence.

"Can we go out?" asked Clara happily, smiling when her two friends took her by an arm and leaded her out to the stable to saddle up their horses.


End file.
